The Bravest There Ever Was
by Verin Mystal
Summary: When Lord Kirkland came to Mary's door looking for a new maid for young Alfred, she knew it to be the perfect opportunity to prove her worth and be employed in his large estate. Besides, how hard could it be to care for a spoiled rich boy?
1. Chapter 1

**The Bravest There Ever Was**  
**By: Verin Mystal  
Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the original ideas/characters of this story.  
**Summary:** When Lord Kirkland came to Mary's door looking for someone to look after his young _charge_ for the day, she knew it to be the perfect opportunity to prove her worth to the man, who might even one day employ her in his large estate. Besides, how hard could it be looking after a spoiled rich boy? If only she knew.

**A/n:** Lame title is lame, but I couldn't help it. Hope it makes sense, as it's late. This occurred to me after reminiscing about my years spent suffering/babysitting a variety of children I came to loathe/love. Most of the, uh, _incidents_ in this actually happened. D: Hope you enjoy it?

* * *

"His supper is to be served at six o'clock. Not a moment earlier or later. If served too late he can't sleep. Ensure he eats _everything_ on the plate, not _just_ the meat."

"Yes, Lord Kirkland."

"His bath is to be taken at 8 o'clock. Make _sure_ he cleans properly. After the bath, there will be an hour of studying his letters, and then you read to him."

"Yes, Lord Kirkland."

"He is not to go outside at all, for any reason. Don't listen to _any_ of his excuses, even if he claims to be dying. Understand?"

"Yes, Lord Kirkland."

"Do not let him out of your sight. Keep him busy. Never let him dawdle."

"_Yes_, Lord Kirkland."

Arthur stared at the young woman, his thick eyebrows knitting together.

Mary shrank under the man's intense gaze, a quivering shiver filled her chest, but she held strong.

Only a single generation passed since her family had left England for a better way of life. The hopes and promises they read and heard about lured them to pack everything and brave the treacherous journey across the Atlantic. Mary was the eldest of four children, her younger siblings all boys and very active around the farm her father ran, growing wheat, barley and other staple crops. Normally she helped around the farm, spinning yarn from wool, practicing her knitting, making candles, soap, and churning butter were just a few of the day to day chores she fulfilled around their home. However, Lord Kirkland _himself_ came to their door one day in need of a new housekeeper, her father leaped at the chance and offered her for the job to help support the family.

The two stood in the entryway of the door that led into Lord Kirkland's home. Mary felt like a poor bum compared to the Lord and his clean, fancy clothes. Mary's own dress was homemade, down to the thread she spun years ago. Her mother dyed the fabric blue using the blue petals of cornflowers. It was a rather plain dress, but very conservative, the sleeves reaching her wrists, the neckline encircling her neck where it joined to her shoulders, and the bottom of the dress just touching the ground, leaving her old leather shoes just barely visible. Her long black hair was pulled and tied at the nape of her neck.

"Well then, I think I've told you everything I can remember. I must be going, as I fear I am already late-"

"No!" A young boy, looking to be only five or six years of age, suddenly appeared from around the around the corner and barreled into the older man.

"Oof!" Arthur gasped, trying and failing to pry the boy's arms from around him. "Alfred, _really_, I already went over this with you-"

"You always have to go to meet the governor!" The boy yelled with an indignant scowl. "I want to come too! Why can't I _ever_ come?"

"-Because you are still too young." Arthur knelt before Alfred and cupped his hand around the boy's head. "I will take care of it until you are able to join me."

Mary watched the two with a smile, choosing to remain silent in their tender moment.

"You must stay here for now." Arthur ruffled the boy's hair, threading his fingers through the wheat-colored locks. "…Remember our _talk_ we had?"

Alfred's sad expression wilted in annoyance, his eyes rolling to the sky and back to the ground. "_Yeah_, I remember."

"I'm serious, Alfred. If you break the rules, there will be _consequences_. Understand?"

"_Yes_, I **know**."

Arthur narrowed his eyes at him, studying his face for a moment before wrapped his arms around the boy's shoulders and drawing him in for a hug.

"I only do this for you own good."

"I know." Alfred grumbled, his unhappiness melting at the warm affection he was receiving.

Arthur finally stood and gripped the leather satchel containing various documents regarding local trade and other proceedings.

"I will return late, so please do not wait up for me."

Mary nodded, putting on a confident smile.

"Don't worry Lord Kirkland, everything will be fine!"

Arthur hefted himself up onto his horse, putting the leather satchel in one of the saddle bags on the left flank of his chestnut stallion. He glanced to the young girl, his gaze wary.

"Of course…right. Farewell!"

Arthur kicked his horse into run and galloped down the road, making haste as he was already late for the meeting.

Mary watched him go, curious at Lord Kirkland's apprehension, but pushed her thoughts away after a moment and turned around, silently chiding herself for allowing such idle thought.

Alfred was gone.

Eyes widening, she glanced about and stepped into the home.

"Alfred? _Alfred_-?"

"Rah!" Alfred exploded from around a corner, his bare feet slapping against the wooden floor.

Mary gasped in surprise, and then frowned. "Alfred, that wasn't very nice!"

The boy laughed and pointed a finger at her.

"I scared ya!" Alfred continued to laugh, his blue eyes glittering in mirth. "You should've seen the look on your face!"

"Yes, you scared me." Mary raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm sure one day you may even be able to scare Arthur, too."

Alfred stopped laughing suddenly, his eyes serious.

"_No one_ can scare Arthur."

"You think so?"

Alfred nodded. "I _know_ so. Nothing could ever scare him, not thieves, criminals, ghosts, monsters… or even _pirates_!"

"Well it's a good thing he's helping the governor then." Mary stated with a smile. "I've heard of the Caribbean pirates terrorizing the harbor in town…"

"Really? They have?" Alfred's eyes widened suddenly. "Arthur never told me!"

Mary bit her tongue, fearing she'd said too much.

"Alfred," she started, her voice coaxing. "Why don't you show me around your house?"

The boy's eyes brightened, the threat of pirates forgotten, and lunged forward to grasp her hand. He launched into a loud voice, showing her the sitting room, the kitchen, the dining room, and took her upstairs to show her the rooms, all except for Arthur's bedroom. He was forbidden to enter, thanks to the _accidents_ he's had before in regards to his unnatural strength.

"Well, it's nearing sunset and dinner must be started now if we are to serve it on time." Mary started down the stairs, pausing a moment to glance up to Alfred. "You can play outside."

She honestly didn't see why it would be so bad to let the boy outside. All boys needed to play, it was just something they did.

"...Really?" Alfred smiled, his eyes lighting up.

"Yes, really."

Mary continued down the stairs and into the kitchen, where she prepared the fire and took up the great cast-iron pot that hung from the spit, setting it on the table-top in the kitchen. She soon forgot about the boy, as she was busy preparing the salted pork and the dumpling mixture. After a while, Mary finally stepped outside into the garden to see what vegetables she might pick for the dinner when a sudden realization dawned upon her.

"Alfred?" Mary called after pulling two carrots. "Alfred?"

She carefully set the carrots into the pocket of her apron and cupped her hands around her mouth.

"Alfred~!"

"Over here! Hurry!" His voice answered back.

Relief flooded her and she stepped through the wild grasses to tall trees that lined the edge of the forest.

"Where are you?"

"Up here!"

She looked up.

There, in the highest branch of the tree was Alfred.

Her throat constricted in terror at the sight.

"What are you _doing_ up there?" She shouted, her voice wavering. "Get down!"

It was now that she realized her error in going against Lord Kirkland's advice.

"I-…I can't!"

"Yes you can!" Mary refused to believe his words. "You climbed up there, you can climb down!"

"But-"

The branch snapped, and Alfred tumbled through the tree branches, several cracking and snapping at contact until he caught a branch in his hands. He hung there for a few tense moments.

"Are you okay?" Mary shivered in apprehension, she'd only let him leave her sight for a little while and already he was causing trouble. "Please tell me you're alright!"

"I'm fine." Alfred's confident, yet strained voice came. "But I can't get down."

"What?" Mary gaped at him. "But you _can_! I _know_ you can! Just lift yourself up and-"

"My arm really, really hurts!" Alfred's voice was pained. "It's not working right."

Mary paled. "I…I…"

She didn't want to think about what his over-protective guardian might do to her when he returned to find his charge with a broken arm.

"Can you climb up and get me?"

"I..what?" Mary stared at him, her mouth dropping open for the second time in the past minute. "Climb up a…_tree_?"

"Yeah! I…I can't lift myself up!"

"I…I…" Mary looked down at herself. She was in her older dress, complete with apron. "But…but Alfred I-"

"Don't worry about your dress!" His voice sounded flat, and if he was look at her, she would've seen his eye-roll. "Just climb up the tree and help me onto the branch below! It's real easy!"

"But…" Mary sucked in a deep breath. "…Alright."

She had to do everything she could to keep this job of looking after Alfred. Her family needed the money. Sighing in apprehension, she stepped up to the tree and eyed the trunk and the low-lying branch.

"So…what do I do?"

She'd never climbed a tree before. Her father would've tanned her hide if he caught her doing such a thing.

"Just put your foot on that first branch and climb up!" Alfred said this as if he were speaking to a two year old. "It's easy."

"Okay…" She lifted her foot up and place it onto the branch. To have her leg lifted so high and feel her dress lift up beyond her ankles…she shuddered in repulsion and tried shoving her dress back down.

"Don't worry about your dress!" Alfred laughed. "No one can see!"

"That's not the point!" Mary cried, her face slowly turning crimson. "I can't believe I'm doing such a thing…"

She stepped up to the first branch and grasped the second one, she tried lifting herself up but found she didn't quite have the strength.

"I can't," She sighed, shivering in fear. "I can't lift myself up!"

"Yes you can!" Alfred exclaimed, sounding hopeful. "Just pull yourself up!"

"Oh _fine_." She growled, her patience already wearing thin and with a sudden heave, pulled herself up and over the branch. She pulled her legs up and over, refusing to straddle the branch in such a lewd fashion, and stood up with quivering knees. She looked up and found Alfred still too high to reach.

Thirty minutes later, she finally reached the boy.

Alfred was still hanging from the tree branch, only now she could see him. His feet were not freely hanging, but were instead just touching another tree branch below. He could have easily leg go and crawled back down the tree in no time.

"What..I…" Mary gaped at the boy, feeling anger bubble up within her. "You fooled me!"

Alfred giggled and grinned widely. "didn't you have fun climbing up here?"

"No!" Mary exploded, her face turning crimson. "This is wrong! All of it!"

"What's wrong with climbing tree's?"

"No! Nothing's wrong with climbing trees but, you can't just-" Mary stopped suddenly and sniffed the air. Her eyes widened. "Oh no."

"What?"

"The food!" Mary climbed down that tree about ten times faster than she climbed up it, and ran into the kitchen. "Everything's burnt!"

Smoke flooded the room. She opened all the windows and used a kitchen cloth to wave the smoke out of the door. After airing the room, she finally pulled the meat and dumplings from the cooking surface and set them on the table with a sigh. Alfred came in a moment later.

"What happened?"

"Our dinner is ruined." Mary stated mournfully. "Everything will taste horrible."

Alfred peered at the black and crispy meat and the burnt-to-a-crisp dumplings.

"It isn't ruined!" Alfred exclaimed, picking up a burnt dumpling and putting a corner into his mouth, crunching the blackened mass loudly. "Hey this tastes good!"

Mary gaped at him.

"Honest!" Alfred grinned and popped the rest of the blackened thing into his mouth, crunching loudly, sounding as if he were mashing rocks together. "This is great! I wish En-…uh, Arthur's cooking was this good!"

"You're…not lying."

"Why would I lie?" Alfred frowned. "Arthur says 'One should always tell the truth.'"

"I…well of course. Yes." Mary allowed, at a total loss for words regarding the situation. "You… still want to eat?"

Alfred nodded with a huge grin.

Mary could only shove the plate of burnt meat and dumplings at the boy's place on the table.

Alfred sat down in his spot and dug into the food with relish. It was only after a moment that he paused to stare at her.

"Don't you want any?"

"Ah…I'm not really hungry." Mary lied with a fake smile. "You go ahead! Eat as much as you like."

Alfred grinned and continued his gorging.

Mary stared at the boy, her eyes wide and alarmed.

_…Just how bad of a cook __**is**__ Lord Kirkland?_

* * *

**Next Part:** America throws a temper tantrum, gets a bloody nose, and alarming news comes from the town.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Bravest There Ever Was**  
**By: Verin Mystal  
Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the original ideas/characters of this story.  
**Summary:** When Lord Kirkland came to Mary's door looking for someone to look after his young _charge_ for the day, she knew it to be the perfect opportunity to prove her worth to the man, who might even one day employ her in his large estate. Besides, how hard could it be looking after a spoiled rich boy? If only she knew.

* * *

"Stop _struggling_, Alfred!"

"I don't want to!"

"You're _filthy_ and Lord Kirkland insisted you take a bath tonight!"

"I don't want you to give me a bath! Only Arthur's allowed! Not some _girl_!"

Mary sucked in a breath and silently prayed for patience so that she wouldn't cuff the boy upside the head. She could only imagine what Lord Kirkland might do if he found out.

"You haven't bathed since the night before. You _must_ bathe tonight if you are to remain clean and healthy!"

It had been a day since she herself had bathed, and already she felt grimy.

"No." Alfred fell to the floor in a heap at the foot of the stairs. "I ain't goin'!"

Mary frowned at him, her face heating up.

"You are going to get into that bath, or so help me I will _drag_ you up those stairs."

Alfred _hmphed_ and crossed his arms, fully intending on remaining planted to the floor.

"Fine then."

Mary lunged forward, wrapping her arms around the boys waist and with a mighty heave, lifted him up from the floor. She grunted and felt surprised at how heavy the boy was.

Alfred didn't make the carrying easy, and flailed wildly.

"Let go, _let go_!" He shouted, kicking and wriggling. "I don't want a bath! I'm _clean_!"

"You were outside climbing all over that tree!" Mary shouted, steadily walking up the stairs with great effort. "You're taking a bath and I'll have no backtalk!"

Alfred whined loudly, wildly protesting and wriggling to no avail. Mary finally crested the stairway and walked down the hall to the washroom, where she stepped in through the door way and dropped Alfred to the floor. Quickly, she shut the door behind her and stood before it with her arms crossed.

Alfred glared at her. "I don't want a bath."

"You are such a _child_." Mary admonished, hoping to get a rise out of him. "You're old enough to wear adult clothes, and yet you're afraid over a little bath!"

"I'm not a kid!" Alfred shouted, and jumped to his feet. "And I'm not afraid!"

"Oh?"

Alfred clenched his fists and turned to the bath, which was now lukewarm from sitting for so long. With a deep breath, he quickly stripped his clothes off and jumped into the tub, silently hoping he got water everywhere so Mary would have to clean it up.

"So you're not afraid after all?" Mary exclaimed and picked his clothes up from the floor to fold them neatly and stack them beside the porcelain wash-basin. Reaching for the soap, she knelt at the edge of the tub and scrubbed the soap in her hands until a thick white lather.

"I'm not _afraid_," Alfred insisted with a roll of his eyes. "I didn't want to take a bath. I'm clean enough, aren't I?"

Mary grasped his right hand and inspected his finger nails. Dirt covered the underside of his nails. Frowning, she dropped his hand and touched the sensitive skin behind his ears. Alfred giggled suddenly and jerked away.

"Stop that!" He exclaimed with a laugh. "Arthur does the same thing!"

"Your fingernails are dirty, as is the skin behind your ears."

Mary raised her soap covered hands.

"Dunk your head."

* * *

Alfred stood shivering with only a bath-sheet wrapped around him, his soaking wet hair plastered to his scalp. Mary picked up a smaller white sheet and scrubbed at his head until his hair was now only damp and sticking in every direction. Picking up a set of clean nightclothes, she set them on a small table.

"Dry yourself off and get dressed. I'll have no dawdling now." Mary admonished and stepped around him to crack open the tiny window to vent the steam from the room. "Once you're dressed you'll take up the hornbook and practice your letters, just as Lord Kirkland instructed."*

A loud whine came from Alfred, who stood still with his feet planted to the wooden floor. "I _hate_ that thing!"

Mary frowned, resisting an annoyed sigh she wanted to heave loudly, and shoved the window open. Male voices came from outside, all yelling and laughing, arguing and cursing at each other.

"I don't know _why_ I always gotta practice my letters… I know them all-"

Mary jerked her head to the side. "Shh!"

Alfred grew quiet, the frown still plastered on his face.

"Someone's outside…" Mary leaned closer to the window, hoping to make out what the men were saying. "There must be at least three or four men outside."

She pulled away from the window, drawing the curtain together over it and turned to face Alfred. Before she could open her mouth again, three short knocks came from the front door.

"Don't answer it." Alfred said suddenly, his voice oddly serious for a young boy.

Worry grew into a tight ball within Mary's chest, causing her heart to beat faster, her throat to run dry. Drawing in a deep breath, she willed herself to calm down and think about the situation as logically as possible.

"Get dressed." Mary stepped around him, dropping all formal etiquette. "Meet me in Kirkland's bedroom."

She left Alfred without waiting for his answer and walked to the bedroom, ignoring the next set of knocks coming from the door. Opening Lord Kirkland's bedroom doors, she stepped in and stepped to the closet, jerking it open to find the flint-lock long rifle standing propped against a stack of old, leather bound books, its muzzle nearly four feet long for accuracy while hunting. Picking the rifle up, she gathered the bag of firing supplies from the floor and started the tedious process of loading the rifle, priming the black powder, loading lead ball into the muzzle of the rifle with the ramrod, ensuring the charge was well placed and set the hammer to full cock. The rifle now loaded, she turned and found Alfred standing in the doorway of Kirkland's room, staring at her.

"Get behind me!" She whispered fiercely. "Can you reload this weapon?"

Alfred looked at the floor, ashamed.

"We'll be fine." Mary put on a brave face and shoved him to the bed. "Now hide under there!" Alfred frowned, and looked as if he were debating something internally, but pressed his lips together instead and crawled under the bed.

The knocks grew louder and more violent until finally the door was kicked off its hinges and landed on the floor with a mighty ithud/i. Mary jumped, startled at the loud sound, and stepped deeper into the room, holding the rifle up and aiming at the top of the stairs.

"You two check the downstairs." A male voice, gravely and holding the slurring accents of the south and Caribbean. "I'll head on up."

Heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs. Mary stepped back into the closet, and held the rifle ready to fire. She silently thanked her father for insisting she learn how to load and fire a rifle despite her vocal complaints.

"We know you're here~!" Came another voice, sounding lighter in tone, but heavier in the accent. "We just want to talk to 'ya!"

Mary frowned and clenched the gun tighter.

"Lord Kirkland sent us!" The same voice declared in a fake reassuring tone. "Said he was mighty worried about you being here and all…"

A head appeared at the stairs, and Mary raised the rifle, lining her sights up. A trembling shiver coursed through her. She'd never killed a man before… much less an animal.

"Just come out and talk to us~"

She clenched her jaw tightly shut, closed her eyes and pulled the trigger.

The explosion was small but punctuated, filling the entire two-story home with sound and smoke. A shout erupted, and a body hit the floor. Hands shaking, Mary frantically started reloading, priming the muzzle with powder, getting the bullet ready, yanking the ramrod from its tiny compartment over the muzzle of the rifle-

Calloused, grimy hands gripped her head and threw her to the ground by her hair. Screaming, she dropped the rifle and collapsed to the floor in a heap.

"She…she _shot_ me." A man's voice exclaimed from the top of the stairs. "That bitch _actually_ shot me!"

"You found 'em?" Came another voice from downstairs.

"Naw, just some _girl_."

A hand gripped her hair again and yanked upward, dragging to her feet. Mary screamed again and reached up to claw at the hand.

"Where's the boy?" A voice ordered. "Tell us and _maybe_ we'll let ya' go?"

Mary opened her eyes and found the man she shot sprawled on the floor, both hands covering a gaping, bleeding hole in his belly. Another man stood directly beside her, his face smeared with dirt and unshaven stubble. He was missing several teeth, his ears pierced, and smelled like the harbor at noon.

"P-pirate…" Mary half sobbed, turning away. "Your…your those _pirates_!"

Two more men appeared at the top of the stairs, one kneeling to check over the wounded man while the other stepped closer to her.

"That's right." The other man confirmed. "And if you don't tell us where the boy is we might decide to…release our _frustrations_ on you."

Mary couldn't help a choked sob at that. "I…I…" She trembled and felt hot tears staining her cheeks. "I'll never tell."

To think of these men getting their hands on that boy… on _Alfred_… something deep in her gut recoiled violently at the thought.

"Let's just see how long you keep that attitude up while I'm ripping-"

The large four-coaster bed suddenly lifted into the air, lingered, and flew at the pirates at the foot of the stairs. The men shouted and stepped away, releasing Mary in their surprise. Mary scrambled away and crawled into the closet, frantically searching for anything to fight the pirates off with.

"What the- that's him!" One of the men shouted. "That little brat!"

The man who previously threatened Mary with rape blanched. "…Are you _serious_? But…he just lifted a bed that…that weighed far more than him!"

"Don't you ever touch her again!" Alfred glared at them, his blue-eyed blazing. "And what did you do to Arthur!"

"Oh…_Arthur_?" The man with the gravelly voice smirked. "I'm sure him and that _Captain_ are getting to know each other _very_ well right about now."

"What do you mean?" Alfred's glare grew confused. "Arthur would never let someone capture him!"

The men laughed suddenly, their voices mocking. "Well look at him, so much _faith_ in the good Captain Kirkland 'aye?"

Mary shoved the books and old things away in the closet, trying to desperate find anything that might help their favor. Pushing aside a stack of books, she reached into a dark corner. Her hands touched something cool and smooth. Curling her hands around it, she pulled it into the dim light, and found it to be the scabbard of an old sword. The varnish long worn away, the metal decorations beginning to rust.

"Captain…?" Alfred questioned, but narrowed his eyes instead. "What did you do to him!"

"Oh we haven't done nothin' to him…not _yet_ anyways." The gravelly voice said. "Now come on over here and maybe we won't hurt the girl again hm?"

Alfred glared at them, his face growing flushed with anger. Stiffly, he turned around, gripped the heavy oaken dresser with one hand and lifted it above his head with little hesitation.

"I swear…if you _hurt_ him-"

"We didn't hurt him!" The high-pitched voice exclaimed in a rush. "It was the _Captain_, not use lowly deck-hands, see?"

Alfred's grip tightened on the dresser.

The gravelly voice suddenly tore a flint-lock pistol from his waistband at the small of his back. Alfred flung the dresser at them. The gravelly voice man side stepped, leaving the other the face the full force of the heavy object that crashed into him with a deafening explosion of twisting wood. Alfred froze at the sight of the gun.

"Ah, not so brave now huh?" The man spat, taking a step forward. "Now _get over here_-"

He paused a moment, a look of pain crossed the man's face before he collapsed to the floor. Mary stood directly behind him, the bloodied sword in her hands.

Alfred rushed forward and picked the flint-lock pistol up, finding it to be loaded and primed. He turned to stare at her, his eyes worried.

"…Are you okay?"

Gasping, Mary dropped the sword to the floor and smothered her face with her hands.

"No…no-no-no…Why is this happening?"

Alfred carefully set the gun on the dresser and stepped closer to her. "We have to find Arthur. We have to save him."

"Save him?" Mary exploded, flinging her hands away from her face and into the air. "You're just a little boy! And I a girl! How in the world can we _save_ him when we hardly saved ourselves?"

Alfred frowned and took her hands into his own.

"I'm going to save him. And you're coming with me."


End file.
